


You Remind Me Of The Babe

by Tashilover



Category: Endeavour
Genre: Crack Fic, Voodoo doll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 06:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14099157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: Thursday finds a particular doll in his office one day.Crack fic!





	You Remind Me Of The Babe

Was this supposed to be a threat?

If it was, it wasn't a very good one. The doll was not only adorable, but soft to the touch and expertly made. Thursday couldn't imagine a criminal bent over his desk, carefully stitching together this doll, sewing it clothes, detailing its face, all to intimidate Thursday. The more Thursday studied the doll, the more he was impressed by the design. The buttons of the suit clasped together, the tie was done in a Windsor knot, and even the shoes and the zip of the trousers could be undone and taken off.

Thursday chuckled. In his hands he held a small Morse doll.

It was Morse, that he had no doubt. The doll's face had bright blue buttons for eyes, had fiery red hair, and wore the familiar grey suit Morse always wore.

Thursday should be writing up a report right now, but he was enjoying playing with the doll. He flipped it over, squeezed it, gently rubbed his thumb over the doll's face, its hair, down its back, reveling in the softness. Should he give this Morse? Thursday didn't want to, he felt like the boy would destroy it. As sentimental as Morse was, he got embarrassed too easily, and something like this would certainly make his cheeks turn pink. Besides, whoever made it gave it to _Thursday_. He should keep it.

Thursday spent another minute idly playing with the doll, then decided enough was enough. It was time to get back to work. He opened a drawer and gently laid the doll down next to his pipe and tobacco, and closed it.

 

 

 

 

 

"When's the last time you slept?"

Morse shrugged. The dark bags under his eyes made him look like an old man. "It's insomnia. Nothing I can't handle."

"I've seen you sleep," Thursday said. "Like a log, you are. Is this a new occurrence?"

"I think it comes with age. My, ah, dad had it. It was rare when he had a full night of sleep."

"If I send you home early, do you think you'll be able to doze off?"

"I'm fine. I can continue working-"

"And that's all I need to hear. Really, Morse. Take better care of yourself. Nobody here would have hesitated pushing off early. Go home, try to catch a few hours. The files will still be here when you get back."

Morse must've been tired because he didn't argue any further. He nodded, groggily got to his feet and shuffled towards the coat rack.

Thursday thought that would've been the end of it. He went through the day quietly, overlooking a few misdemeanors and petty thefts. Though it was Spring, the sun still set quite early, and by five in the afternoon the entire office was dark. The majority of the staff had gone home already, leaving only the night crew to man the phones.

Thursday gathered his things, slipping on his coat and grabbing his hat. He patted the front of his pockets, feeling for his pipe, frowning when he didn't find it. Maybe he left it in the kitchens.

He took a step out of his office and stopped. He groaned. "Really?"

Morse looked up from his desk. The bags under his eyes had deepened within the few hours he was gone. "Couldn't sleep," he muttered. "I'd rather get some work done than stare miserably at the wall."

Thursday wanted to drag him back home, tell him to get into bed and rest. It didn't matter if he couldn't sleep, resting was just as important. But it's not as if Thursday had any better solutions than that. Besides, he knew Morse well enough if the boy didn't get mental stimulus from something, his boredom would take him to more dangerous areas. It was best he focused that turning mind of his here at the precinct.

"Well," Thursday sighed. "I can't make you go home. But if you do feel sleepy-"

"There are cots in the locker room," Morse finished. "Thank you sir."

With that done, Thursday patted the front of his breast pocket again, forgetting momentarily what he was doing.

"You usually keep your pipe in the first drawer," said Morse.

Thursday nodded his thanks, and went back to his desk drawer. Inside he found his pipe, and sitting right next to it was the Morse doll.

He'd forgotten about this. The doll sat a bit obscured inside the desk with one hand over its head, while the tie flopped on top of Morse's face. Grinning, Thursday reached down and rearranged the doll to sit more comfortably. He thought back to when the kids were younger and how he used to tuck them in with their favorite dolls. Joan had a small hippopotamus doll named Sammy, and she slept with that doll till she was sixteen. Over the years Joan rid the majority of her old childhood toys, but Sammy had a permanent spot in her room.

"Get some sleep, will you?" Thursday said softly, brushing aside a strand of yarn hair from Morse's button eyes. With that, he gently closed the drawer.

He walked out of his office, only to find Morse slumped over at his desk, his head tucked into his arms, snoring loudly.

"Well now," Thursday said, bemused. "I supposed if I wanted to sleep, paperwork would do the trick."

Still, if Morse slept the whole night at that desk, he was going to wake up in a world of pain. Thursday put aside his hat, walked over and gently nudged Morse awake.

Morse jerked, blinked, and groaned. "Noooo..." He moaned sleepily, turning his head away.

"C'mon, don't fight me on this, lad. Up you go."

Thursday guided the half-conscious Morse to the locker room, helping him to the nearest cot. Morse was only conscious long enough to kick off his shoes and loosen his tie, and then fell back and was gone. Thursday fished out a pillow and a blanket from the closet. Like he's done with his children hundred of times in the past, Thursday tucked Morse in, patting him gently on the shoulder.

"Get some rest."

 

 

 

 

 

Thursday didn't put stock into superstition, but he couldn't help but note the strange coincidence between telling the doll to sleep and having Morse slump over at his desk.

 _Still_ , Thursday thought to himself, grinning, _it did work_. It was ten in the morning of the next day, and he was glad to see Morse was working diligently without having to rub at his tired eyes every five seconds. A full night's did him wonders.

Thursday opened his desk drawer. The doll was where he left it, and he gently scooped it into his hand. "So, do I have to thank you for this?"

He pulled it out. As he did so, a stray thread got caught on a splinter, lightly popping the stitching around the neck.

Without thinking, Thursday tugged sharply on the doll to get it loose. The flesh-colored thread unraveled swiftly like cut spider web, and within a second, the doll's head fell back, completely separate from its body.

"Oh, damn it-"

Before Thursday could chastise himself fully for such a silly move, loud screams erupted from outside of his office.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I don't know why my mind went so dark. What didja expect? XD


End file.
